


To Sleep Perchance To Dream

by armlessphelan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armlessphelan/pseuds/armlessphelan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he goes to sleep, Stiles lives a second life. He's married, happy, and werewolves don't exist. But when his dream life starts to bleed into his real one, things start to go wrong. Really wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Sleep Perchance To Dream

When she kissed him good morning, Stiles took the opportunity to grab her under her arms and swing her around their room. Lydia laughed as slapped at his arms until he sat her back on the floor.

"I have to finish getting ready for work," she told her husband as she ran a brush through her hair and looked in the mirror. For his part, Stiles thought she already looked amazing. Lydia Martin-Stilinski was the most gorgeous scientist working for NASA, and nobody would convince him otherwise. "Besides, don't you have a meeting with Scott and Danny?"

Stiles did not want to think about his best friend and his business partner. Not while his wife was standing right there looking like the most amazing thing ever. Even though she would get flustered and complain about running out of time, Stiles kissed her shoulder and made his way up to her neck. She laughed, pressed her lips to his, then danced out of his reach.

"Seriously, I have to go. They want me to do a presentation on the new findings from Rover. I think we might have found ice last night!"

He wished her well, then watched her walk away. Stiles looked at himself in Lydia's boudoir mirror and grinned. His new fitted suit, which Lydia had made him buy, definitely looked good. It was just a bonus that it made him look good.

After straightening his tie and ushering the cat away from the door, Stiles left the apartment he and Lydia shared. He blared whatever playlist Lydia had put on his phone as he cruised down the street.

Scott and Danny were already waiting at the office, acting like such cute newlyweds that Stiles wanted to vomit. They stopped being lovey when they noticed him. Well, except for Danny, who kept one hand planted on Scott's backside.

“I will not tolerate sexual harassment at this place of business,” Stiles teased as he sat on his desk and looked at his best friends. “Besides, don't you have a shift at the clinic, Scott?”

Shaking his head, Scott grinned at Stiles before sliding even closer to his husband. “Nope. Besides, Danny has been telling me that there is big news coming soon and he won't tell me what.”

“Dude, I told Lydia about it last week. You are a shitty husband,” Stiles informed Danny with a cocked eyebrow. Danny proceeded to give Stiles the finger. He took it as a sign to continue. “Scott, we're expanding into the Android market. Officially. We're gonna hire a new team to do all future ports in-house. No more cheap third party devs giving us a bad name.”

“I wanted to tell him!” Danny laughed as he finally released Scott's behind to give Stiles the bird with both hands.

“You had a week. I didn't tell you not to tell him,” Stiles said as he buffed his nails on his new shirt.

After giving Danny a celebratory kiss, Scott congratulated Stiles with a hug.

“Dude, this awesome,” Scott told Stiles before punching him in the shoulder. It didn't hurt, since it wasn't meant to, but it did cause Stiles to momentarily lose his balance and teeter on the edge of the desk.

“Be careful, Bitch,” Danny warned with a chuckle after Stiles righted himself. “Though, if you did fall and bust your head open, one could consider it karma.”

“Fuck you, too,” Stiles snorted.

 

TW

“Stilinski, if you're not going to pay attention in class, then maybe you'd like to do it in detention!” Coach Finstock yelled as he dropped a stack of Econ books on the desk next to Stiles' head. Any lingering sleepiness he might have had fled as he jolted upright.

“Um, no, Coach! I'm here and paying attention. Just me and my, uh, pencil!” he exclaimed as he held up his writing utensil.

One of Coach's eyes seemed to double in size and anger as the other shrunk, but he just sniffed and continued with his lecture. Scott tapped on Stiles' shoulder and whispered something in his ear about cross country practice, but Stiles ignored him and tried to write down all the notes on the blackboard before Coach erased them out of spite. If he missed anything, he'd get it from Lydia, but he'd rather not have to deal with her judgemental looks. She loved giving out judgemental looks.

When class let out, Stiles and Scott both hung back to chat.

“Dude, did you hear me? Practice is cancelled. They found a dead body out on the trails,” Scott told Stiles as he gathered his books under his arm and waited. Stiles was still a little groggy.

“I heard about the body last night on Dad's scanner. Lacerations to the neck. But, like, not claw marks, but regular old knife stuff. So we either have another Darach or we have just a regular run of the mill murder,” Stiles said as he stood and stretched. “I was up waiting for Dad to get home so I could drill him. He's still adjusting to me, you know, knowing more about the sudden increase in fatalities in town.”

“So he told you that he thinks it was just a regular murder?”

“He said it didn't seem like it was anything out of the ordinary. Just a tall guy. He had light brown skin, but dad wouldn't tell me his name.”

“Why not?” Scott wondered as they left the classroom. Allison was waiting for them in the hallway, Lydia on one side and Isaac on the other. “Um, so you guys heard, then.”

“It's second period, Scott. Of course everyone heard,” Lydia scoffed as she struggled to hold all the books in her hands. Stiles couldn't even begin to imagine why she had the autobiography of some scientist whose name he couldn't pronounce. “Also, I woke up screaming again.”

“Which means it's our business,” Allison reminded the crowd. “We're going to check out the scene. The cops combed it last night, but Isaac has a hell of a nose and Lydia can do the whole 'wander around and find evidence' thing like nobody's business.”

“I usually find bodies, not evidence,” Lydia reminded Allison before turning back to Scott and Stiles. “But that's beside the point. We need you two to do something.”

“What?” Stiles yawned, hands stretched over his head and school supplies falling to the floor. He bent down to pick his stuff up and Isaac helped him. While he didn't actively dislike Isaac anymore, Stiles still didn't care for him.

“Danny and I share homeroom. He didn't show up,” Isaac told Stiles as he handed him the book for his next class.

Stiles looked up at Scott. “A tall guy with light brown skin.” He left his pencils and pens on the floor

“Shit,” Scott cursed, a growl in his voice. “You need us to check up on him?”

“Exactly,” Lydia confirmed, laying a hand on Scott's forearm. The tardy bell went off, but all five students ignored it. “I would, but ever since Jackson and then Aiden and Ethan left, Danny hasn't been up to talking to me. We weren't super close before, but we were cordial.”

“And he hates us,” Stiles countered as he stood. He pointed at Scott, then himself. “Why would he talk to us, provided he isn't the dead one?”

“He only hates you,” Scott countered nervously, looking down at Lydia's hand before looking over to Stiles. “Even if he lies right to our faces, I can tell at least that much. If he's still alive. And if he's not?”

“Then we need you two to find out why someone would want him dead,” Allison ordered. She didn't look directly at Scott, but she hadn't been able to look at him for weeks. Ever since they handed bonded with the Nemeton or whatever that ceremony was.

That was also when the dreams started for Stiles.

“We're on it,” Scott assured them, looking up at Lydia. She released him, and Stiles tried to ignore the pang of jealousy.

 

TW

Breathing heavily, like he'd run a marathon instead of walking up three stairs to Danny's stoop, Stiles waited for someone to answer. Scott had circled around the back in case he needed to break in.

“I'm sorry, we're not... Oh, you're the sheriff's son,” the woman Stiles recognized as Danny's mother said as she answered the door. “Aren't you supposed to be in school?”

“Danny wasn't in school, and I wanted to make sure he was okay,” Stiles told her. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't even close to a lie, but Stiles still felt like he was lying. “My dad is the sheriff, as you just said, and he has a scanner at home he leaves on because of work.”

“And you heard about Danny's father,” the woman said as she fought the urge to burst into tears. “I'm sorry, we're not taking company.”

“I understand, Mrs. Mahealani. It's just that... well, my mom died and I thought I could be there for Danny. As a friend. If that's okay.” Stiles felt like the worst person alive, manipulating this woman with the memory of his mother, but if it could save a life or at least help catch Mr. Mahealani's killer he could rationalize it away later. He hoped.

She didn't smile, but she did nod. “Thank you. He's upstairs. I want to talk to him, but I can't.”

“You don't have to explain anything to me. I'm so sorry,” Stiles whispered as he held the woman's hand in his own, patting the back of it. “You do what you need to. I'll take care of Danny.”

Sniffing, the woman attempted and failed a smile, but he didn't mind. “You are such a wonderful young man. If your father wants to yell at you for skipping school, I'll explain the situation to him.”

Stiles didn't thank her, nor did he plan on telling his father what he was doing. He didn't want his dad to know he was investigating this case. Even before he knew about the werewolves and druids, Stiles' dad didn't want him anywhere near any of the murder scenes Stiles always ended up at somehow. Now, Stiles was less an annoyance and an active concern for his father.

As calmly as he could, Stiles walked up the stairs by the foyer. He didn't need werewolf senses to know which room was Danny's. It was the one with the closed door and the sounds of a boy crying. Stiles hadn't considered that Danny would be crying. Even when he'd been attacked at the gay bar and left paralysed, Danny hadn't shed so much as a tear. Danny just didn't seem like the crying type.

But Stiles hadn't been a crier before his mom died, either. And he'd cried since, but rarely. The worst had been at Lydia's birthday when his dad – when the vision of his dad told Stiles that he'd ruined his life and killed his mom. Stiles cried that night like his mother had died all over again and couldn't even tell his father why.

“Hey, Danny Boy,” Stiles said as he knocked and cracked open the door. “Your mom sent me up. I, uh, I'm sorry.”

Hurriedly, Danny wiped at his eyes with a blanket before looking at Stiles. He was broken. There was no other way to put it. If he hadn't seen it in his father's eyes, and his own reflection, every day since his mother had died, Stiles might have confused it with grief.

“Your dad, I mean,” Stiles continued. He walked to Danny, who just sat in his pyjamas and stared at him, taking the silence as consent. When he reached Danny's bed, he sat beside him and put a hand on Danny's thigh. “I can't say I know what you're going through, not exactly, but I've been here. If you need anything.”

Danny still said nothing. Memories of people trying to talk to him about his mom floated into Stiles' thoughts. If he'd allowed himself to say a single word, he would've crumbled, so he just stayed quiet until Scott came over and Stiles could feel safe. Here Stiles was invading the one place Danny felt safe.

He really was an asshole. There was no way around it.

Stiles squeezed Danny's thigh, then stood up and muttered something about fresh air. He walked over to Danny's window and opened it. A blast of California heat slammed into his face, but Stiles left it open so Scott could pick up on anything he would overlook. Looking back at Danny, he still got that same expressionless look. The same look Stiles had worn until the day after his mother was buried and all the visiting relatives and family friends went home.

“If it gets too hot, let me know,” Stiles said as he ran his finger along the windowsill. Curious, he looked at his digit and saw that it was clean of any dust or grime. Danny still wasn't saying anything, which was the opposite of what Stiles needed.

Opting to forgo the bed again, Stiles grabbed at the chair by Danny's computer desk and rolled it over so that he was sitting opposite Danny. He had no idea what to do or say. When it was someone he didn't really know, or someone that Scott had to question, Stiles would have a list ready. He'd actually made a list in his head on the drive over: things to ask about Danny's dad and why he would be found on school grounds, but it all fell away. This was Danny. Stiles knew Danny. He liked Danny. Even if the guy wasn't that fond of Stiles, he was still someone that Stiles looked up to and respected.

“What?” Danny asked, voice only cracking once. He looked much smaller than someone of his stature should. Stiles realized he was staring and looked down at his hands.

“Do you need to talk? I mean, I know we aren't best friends or anything, but anything you tell me will stay in this room. I promise,” Stiles lied in a controlled voice. He was suddenly glad he wasn't looking at Danny anymore. Guilt had been one of the more annoying emotions Stiles had, so it had been one of the easiest for him to suppress. That was quickly coming in handy. “You know how my mom died. I can't know exactly what you're going through, but I have a pretty good idea.”

“There's a pretty big difference between your mom dying and my dad being murdered,” Danny argued coldly. If hating Stiles was what would get him to talk, then Stiles would just have to take it on the chin.

“Right. I had to watch my mom waste away for months before she died. Between the chemo and the pills she took for the side effects of the chemo, I saw her die from day to day. But I got to say goodbye. You didn't. And I'm sorry for that. But in the end, we're still here and my mom and your dad aren't.”

“What the hell are you even doing?” Danny was annoyed, which was what Stiles was used to. He knew this: it was comfortable territory. It would make it easier.

Tilting his head, Stiles blinked and looked into Danny's eyes. He sighed before pressing on. “Why was your dad at the cross country trails? Last I knew, they weren't open to the public.”

“What?” It was hard to tell just what Danny was asking, so Stiles sat there and looked at him. Lydia should've really been the one to talk to Danny. He didn't hate her.

“I know the mortality rate in Beacon Hills is out of control lately. I just want to try to help my dad help your family. Anything you can think of, any reason why someone would want your dad dead, would go a great deal to making sure nobody else dies.” Stiles wanted to pat himself on the back for his amazing cover. The look on Danny's face stopped him.

“So, you didn't come here to be a friend, but instead to play amateur sleuth. I should've known. You can see yourself out.” Danny didn't sound mad, which Stiles had been expecting. He was disappointed. If nothing else, Stiles knew that tone of voice intimately.

 

TW

“Well, that was terrible,” Scott pointed out when Stiles climbed into the Jeep. “At least he only hates one of us.”

“Ha. Ha.” Stiles slammed his head into his steering wheel. Even the power of sarcasm was failing him. “Next time, you interrogate the victim's family. Deal?”

“But you're so good at it,” Scott joked, though there was no hint of laughter in his voice. It seemed like Stiles wasn't the only one to notice that they actually knew this one: they liked him.

After starting the Jeep, Stiles looked at Scott, then up to the window he had opened. Danny had closed it and was watching Stiles and Scott. Except, Stiles thought the window had overlooked the backyard. Which meant Danny had gone to another room to make sure he left. Ouch.

“Can we just go to your house? Your mom works today, and she isn't armed, unlike my dad. So I'd rather have her wrath when school calls.” Stiles backed out of the driveway, simultaneously trying to avoid hitting a mailbox and avoid looking back up to Danny.

“Shouldn't we meet up with Allison and the others?”

Stiles groaned. It was highly unlikely anything would change if they did go, but he'd learned that it was just easier to let Scott have his way: not better, but easier. Stiles appreciated when he was allowed to choose the lazy option.

Do you have your learner's permit yet?” Stiles asked, pulling up to the curb and stopping. They hadn't even made it a block from Danny's house.

“I have an actual license, Stiles. For my bike and for driving. Remember?”

“Clearly, I did not. You drive,” he ordered with a yawn. “I do not need to crash into oncoming traffic right now.”

Sighing as he unbuckled, Scott opened his door. Once the seat was vacant, Stiles shifted over and buckled back up.

“You alright, Stiles?” Scott asked, reaching over and feeling his friend's forehead with the back of his hand. “No fever.”

“Just a long night,” Stiles lied as he stretched out. He knew Scott would easily know he was lying, but he didn't care. He was just tired.

 

TW

Dinner was more awkward than they'd planned. Lydia had cancelled, told Stiles she was working late, so it was just the three men celebrating at Denny's with a hastily thrown together night of drinking after. Pancakes at midnight did surprisingly little to temper Stiles' disappointment but he smiled anyway just to keep Scott and Danny happy.

“Cheer up,” Scott told Stiles, easily seeing through his ruse. “You know Lydia is proud of you guys. And if she's anything like me...”

“You have a blowjob waiting at home,” Danny interrupted with a snicker. Scott burst out laughing and punched his husband's arm. It did make Stiles smirk: a little thing that his friends quickly latched onto.

“Yes, more of that! Please,” Scott commanded at he pointed at Stiles' face.

The banter continued, and after they finished eating they walked to a nearby bar for drinks. Danny and Scott insisted on paying Stiles' way. One of them told him it was their way of making up for Lydia's absence, but this was three shots in and he couldn't even tell which direction was left.

It isn't until they're well past drunk and Scott is stumbling on the sidewalk while singing Cyndi Lauper that things changed. Stiles recognized the song as one that Scott's mother was obsessed with when they were in junior high. However, midway through the chorus, Scott decided that he had to pee.

They're nowhere near the hotel where Danny had wisely rented a room for the night, intending it to be for a party of four. The trio knew they didn't need a DUI and Stiles was still grousing and didn't want to call Lydia to be the designated driver.

Still, Scott had to pee, practically shouted as much at Danny and Stiles, then disappeared down the nearest alley. Danny and Stiles looked at each other, shrug, and wait.

“I'm glad you decided to stay and hang out after all,” Danny said, less-than-subtly referencing Lydia's abandonment of the festivities. “We've been working our asses off and Scott's been talking about missing you. I miss you, too.”

Even though he knew what Danny was talking about, Stiles played dumb. “But we see each other, like, six days a week. And now isn't the time. Your husband is pissing on a wall ten feet away.”

Danny looked down the alley. Following his glance, Stiles saw that Scott was a lot further away than he'd anticipated. He was also apparently a lot drunker, too, since he couldn't seem to operate the zipper on his pants. Scott looked up long enough to wave at them and almost fall over.

“He's fine,” Danny muttered, waving back to Scott. “And you don't get to play the best friend card. Not with me. You know I love Scott. Lydia, too. But I miss seeing you in the wild. Work isn't cutting it. Besides, does Lydia even know about the vasectomy?”

“You know she doesn't.” Stiles was ridden with guilt. They hadn't talked about kids, not seriously, but they hadn't dismissed the idea either. It rubbed salt in the wounds that Lydia had been so busy with work that she hadn't even noticed that he'd had surgery.

Scoffing, Danny grabbed Stiles by the front of the shirt and pulled him out of Scott's line of sight. Then he pushed him up against the wall. In response, Stiles put his hands on Danny's chest and kissed him. It seemed the most natural thing to do. The taste of Danny's mouth burned through the drunken fog that was Stiles' mind. It was as good as he'd remembered. He had missed Danny, too.

“Later,” he promised with a whisper in Danny's ear. The grin on Danny's face made Stiles want to kiss him again, but he didn't dare risk it. “We should probably go make sure Scott didn't drown in his own piss.”

 

TW

Stiles woke when Scott slammed on the brakes and shifted into park. He would've yelled at his friend to take better care of the jeep, but found himself unable to even look at Scott.

“So, who gets to make the big 'we failed epically' reveal?” Scott asked after killing the engine. He tossed the keys to Stiles, who caught them. They jingled as his hands shook. Worry pressing across his face, Scott reached over and pressed the back of his hand to Stiles' forehead again. It was very much something his mother would have done. “Are you sure you're okay? Dude, you're really pale. Like, even more than usual.”

“You're just saying that because I'm white,” Stiles snarked even though he didn't feel it. Still, it was enough to get Scott to back off, but his expression didn't change. “And you can tell them. I already did the really hard part of learning absolutely nothing.”

“Sorry about that,” Scott apologized again. It wasn't necessary, but Stiles accepted it anyway.

They climbed out of the Jeep and Stiles noticed they were nowhere near the school. Apparently, Scott had grown a brain while Stiles was napping and figured out that parking right outside of a crime scene might not be the best idea. Recognizing the area, Stiles figured they were on one of the backroads about a mile from the school. The long way it was, then.

Since he was the werewolf, Scott took the lead. Stiles didn't mind. It gave him time to think: time to play back the conversation with Danny. He really hadn't learned anything, but it was still weird how Danny hadn't been angry. If someone had grilled him about his mom dying...

“He does know something,” Stiles said when they were far enough into the woods that the road and Stiles' Jeep might as well not even exist. “He never told me he didn't, Scott.”

“Still, he didn't tell us anything,” Scott reminded him. “Even if he does know anything, why would he tell us and not the cops? We're just his classmates.”

Stopping, Stiles kicked at a stone in the dirt. “But we're not, Scott. You're a werewolf, Lydia is a banshee, Allison is a hunter. Isaac is a wolf, too. And let's be honest, none of us are subtle.”

Scott blinked. He squatted in the dirt and played with some of the fallen leaves. “Are you telling me that you think Danny knows about us?”

“And that his paper on telluric currents might have been a cover for him researching your supernatural ass? It's very possible.” Stiles watched as Scott crumpled the leaves in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I'm going to go talk to Danny. If he doesn't already know about me, he's going to,” Scott sighed, rising to his feet and brushing his hand on his jeans. “And don't tell me that it's a terrible idea. I already know that it is. But my mom knows and your dad knows and it's only made things easier for them. And we keep trying to keep Danny out of it but it doesn't seem to work.”

Stiles flailed around for an objection. “Scott, we don't even know if his dad's death was supernatural!”

“Lydia,” Scott replied, deflating Stiles' argument. “Ms. Blake killed a bunch of people, too. And most of them looked like a serial killer instead of sacrifices. And if outing myself to Danny can save anyone else, then it's worth it.”

“We should at least see what the others found out first,” Stiles countered. It was logical. Even if Scott wasn't trying to be a genius with his word of the day exercises, he was at least smart enough on a base level to understand not to play a card that didn't need played.

Doubt dulled Scott's eyes. “Stiles, we have to tell him. Jackson, Ethan, anything that could come from the Nemeton being activated: Danny would be safer knowing at this point. He doesn't have to join us. All we need to is to know what he knows, and for us to get that information we have to give up our own.”

“That's not your call to make,” Danny said as he walked up behind Stiles, spooking him and causing him to slip and fall on his backside as he whirled around. Ignoring Stiles, Danny looked at Scott. “You heard me coming.”

“Smelled you, actually,” Scott admitted as he scratched his head. “And I saw your car following us on the drive over. How much did you hear?”

“Everything you wanted me to,” Danny shrugged. He was too casual about this for Stiles to be comfortable. “You're a werewolf. Allison is hunter, and Lydia is a banshee. What is Stiles?”

“A spaz,” Scott answered with a shrug. “How long have you known?”

“Since Ethan. I'm the reason he left. Aiden was going to kill me. His eyes were red and Ethan had to fight him off. They decided to leave: it was their agreement to let me live.” Danny didn't sound happy or sad about it. It was just a fact. “I don't even know why Aiden wanted me dead. But after that I paid a lot more attention to you guys. You're really, really obvious once the pieces start to come together.”

“For the record, I am not a spaz,” Stiles declared as he looked up at Danny. Scott helped him to his feet.

Danny chuckled darkly. “Yes, you are. And you're right, by the way. There is something you guys need to know: my dad died and I'm probably next.”

Both Stiles and Scott looked at Danny with their mouths hanging open. He was being way too casual about this. It was well beyond suspicious.

“My mom doesn't know I know. My dad doesn't either. They probably didn't want me to, but after I figured you lot out I dug up some other things. Thing about myself. I'm a Menehune.”

“A what?” Stiles looked at Scott who shrugged. It seems his word-a-day calendar didn't cover Hawaiian.

“Menehune. They're a Hawaiian legend. Supposed to be tiny little people, actually, but that part was obviously exaggerated. I don't think I have any powers or anything. Nothing I found says that we do. But we do have any enemy. And I think that's why my parents moved here when I was little.”

Scott let his eyes glow red, and it was oddly comforting. “You're gonna be fine, Danny.”

“Yeah, man, we'll take care of you,” Stiles nodded. Danny didn't look too assured. “What do you think killed your dad?”

“Paupueo.”

“Bless you?” Stiles shot out, getting a condescending look from Danny in return.

“You are such a dick,” Danny said with an eyeroll. This was still way too casual. “Paupueo is the Hawaiian owl god or whatever. I don't know. I grew up Lutheran.”

“Scott's Catholic,” Stiles offered. The other two boys gave him the exact same look that indicated he should shut up. He ignored them. “I'm the token atheist.”

“And you do such a good job of it even though your best friend is a werewolf,” Scott said as he patted Stiles on the top of his head. Then they turned their attention back to Danny. “Are you okay?”

“No, I'm definitely not okay. But circumstances are what they are.”

 

TW

“So, he knows?” Allison was less scary about it than Stiles had anticipated, but Isaac was hanging off her side being intimidating enough to more than makeup for it. “I should've gone with Lydia.”

“Hey!” Stiles cried in offence. Then Allison shut him down with a look that almost made him piss his pants.

“He's known for awhile,” Scott explained, a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder. Nobody seemed to notice how determines Stiles was to not look at them. That small mercy was a shockingly large comfort.

“Well, we weren't exactly the most subtle people during the whole Alpha Pack and Darach invasion,” Lydia sighed with her arms crossed over her chest. Stiles looked at her, but just barely. “Was that when you figured it out? Ethan told you?”

Danny didn't seem up to saying much of anything, which Stiles understood. He and Scott had been relatively compassionate and understanding. This was a larger group being very standoffish about the situation.

“So, to be the bad guy,” Isaac started, drawing all attention, “why was you old man offed?”

Allison yelled at Isaac and whirled to face him, finger in his face. Stiles took the opportunity to inspect his shows. He would need new ones soon. All the non-cross country running he'd been engaging in were making them begin to split at the seams.

It still seemed it was impossible for Danny to speak. Stiles looked up long enough to see that Scott's hand slide down to Danny's bicep. The reassuring grin on Scott's face and his gentle handling of Danny made Stiles' stomach twist. In avoidance, Stiles turned to Lydia, but she too was focused on Scott and Danny.

Since Danny was apparently unable to do so, Scott explained everything they knew, everything Danny had told them. Then Allison's eyes met Stiles: they made a silent agreement to discuss being the only humans left in their social circle.

“So, you're a pygmy,” Isaac snorted inappropriately until Allison humbled him with another furious look. He then offered a quiet apology.

“Pygmies aren't supernatural, though. And they're heavily based in tropical and Southern areas. Like Australia or Indonesia. It's very much a height descriptor, like a race, than a select culture or anything.” Everyone stared at Lydia, and she huffed and threw her hands in the air. “What? You people play video games or practice shooting a bow, and I read anthropology books.”

Nobody offered a rebuttal. Lydia then offered Danny her condolences, which seemed to remind everyone that his dad was dead and also the reason they were all standing around in the woods.

“What did you find out?” Stiles asked Allison, breaking the tension. “I mean, you guys were in charge of searching the scene.”

Finally, Danny made a noise. It wasn't anywhere near being a word, so nobody acknowledged it: nobody but Scott, who squeezed Danny's arm sympathetically. Stiles flinched and hoped it wasn't noticeable.

“It was a bust. Neither Isaac nor Lydia found anything. It was clean: it looks like it was just a regular murder,” Allison said apologetically. She caught Danny's eyes with her own but said nothing else. “I could always ask my dad about this kind of stuff, but he's a hunter. Not a scholar.”

“Deaton?” Isaac asked Scott, who seemed to still be comforting Danny. Momentarily, Stiles wondered if Scott was using his ability to leech pain away on Danny. Maybe it was keeping him somewhere in the realm of rational?

“I can ask. But without pictures or an actual body, I doubt he'll know much. Do we know who found it? We could get a description.” Scott was now rubbing Danny's back with his other hand, and both Isaac and Allison had finally picked up on it. They looked at each other, then to Stiles. Nobody said anything.

Lydia shifted her feet nervously. “Yeah, we do. It was Coach Finstock. I overheard him telling another teacher. Bragging, really.”

All four boys groaned collectively. Isaac immediately declared that he was going nowhere near the man. Allison, forever taking the initiative, volunteered. Then, she asked Stiles to help her. “You're on the lacrosse and cross country teams. He'll at least let you into his office. Scott can... Can you talk to Deaton? Lydia can take Danny home.”

“I think I'd like to go with Scott,” Danny said, finally finding his voice. t you have a meeting with Scott and Danny?“I mean, if he's this supernatural genius, maybe he knows about me. Besides, Scott is a werewolf and I'm kind of thinking I might be murdered.”

Allison sighed but agreed.

 

TW

“Stiles?” Allison's voice scared him. She wasn't mean, or threatening, she was nice. And Allison was usually nice to him, he considered her a friend even after she and Scott split, but there was something in her tone that told him to run for the hills.

“Yes?” he asked meekly. This was so not something he wanted to do.

“Is Scott interested in Danny?”

“We are not doing this,” he hissed at her. Shock rung across her face, but he wasn't quite done. “Listen, I'm neutral ground. I'm Switzerland. I do not talk to Scott about you, so you do not get to talk to me about Scott. And as for my best friend's sexual orientation, as far as I know he's straight. Now drop it.”

Allison sighed, but offered Stiles a small smile. “I always figured that if anyone from our crowd got with Danny, it would be you.”

“But he hates me. And I'm straight.”

“You are?” Allison didn't sound like she was being sarcastic, just unsure.

“Well, no, I'm not, but I'm not gay, either. I'm... unlabelled. And Danny hates me.” Stiles shrugged as he stared at the door to Coach Finstock's office. At least they weren't talking about Scott and Danny anymore. The very thought of them being more than friends made him uncomfortable.

“Good for you and your lack of labels. And Danny doesn't hate you,” Allison told Stiles with a wide grin as she gave him an unsolicited one-armed hug. For a moment, the heaviness that had been holding him down all day vanished.

“I would like for us to change the subject. Please. Like what we're supposed to ask Coach?”

She stroked her chin with her finger.

 

TW

“You sleep during my class, then you disappear for over half the day, and now you wanna talk about dead bodies?” Coach Finstock screamed, though his face was neither red nor puffy. It was good. That meant he was still at his base level of anger. One only worried when Coach changed colours.

“We were visiting Danny,” Allison explained, drawing the wrath away from Stiles. “When we heard about his dad, we kinda figured he might need his friends.”

“As lovely as that is, skipping school is still against the rules. Stilinski here is getting detention, and he's mine at practice next week. McCall and Lahey, too. You could be nice and warn them.”

Stiles was confused. “Next week?”

“Yeah,” Coach answered with flaring nostrils. “We don't get the trails back until next week, and the sissies from the school board think that the team might be traumatized or something. But I managed to convince the football coach to let us use the track around the field when they aren't practising. 'Optional' conditioning to keep you idiots in shape.”

Cringing, Stiles wondered just optional this conditioning would be. His legs were sore thinking of how many laps Coach would make him run for this conversation alone.

“And you, Miss Argent, have detention, too. Also, my equipment manager decided that moving to a school district with a lower fatality rate was more important than my team. So congratulations, you've just been drafted!”

“You can't just make me be your equipment manager! I have to want to do it. Besides, I'm a girl, in case you haven't noticed,” Allison argued, making Stiles sink into his chair and try to become as unnoticeable as possible.

“I can and did. Also, as of 2006, Beacon Hills allows for girls to serve as managers for boys' teams and the other way around. Isn't equality grand?” Coach gloated and crossed his arms, glaring at Allison. He was daring her to challenge his authority. She glared back, but wisely voiced no further objections.

“We would still like to know what you saw,” Allison told Coach after several heartbeats. Stiles waited until the man's attention was fully on the girl, then leaned over as if to tie his shoe. “We told Danny we'd ask. He's not in a good place, and I know from experience that answers help. Even the ones we don't really want.”

The teacher's voice softened, Stiles noted it was only a slight shift, but it was still something. “I can't tell students these things. Especially not minors. Last I knew, neither of you could vote.”

Stiles reached into the messenger bag by Coach's desk while the man and Allison continued to converse.

“Please, anything would be better than for Danny to sit there not knowing. He's imagining the most horrible things and each thought is worse and worse. I know because I did the same.” Hearing Allison beg, even if it was just to be manipulative, unnerved Stiles. It also made him remember the days after his mother died. He blinked through the thoughts clouding his mind and wrapped his hand around the device. He carefully pulled it from the bag, then shoved it in his shoe.

While coming up, Stiles banged his head on the corner of the desk. Coach's laser-focused glare was on him before he even resurfaced. Also, Stiles' head really hurt.

“What were you doing, Stilinski?” the man bellowed at the student. He was back to angry, but not red, so he was just being loud for the sake of being loud.

“Just tying my shoe, Coach,” Stiles lied effortlessly. The man seemed to believe him, because he dismissed the duo with only one threat.

When they were back in the empty hallway of the school, everyone else toiling away in a classroom, Allison winked at Stiles. “You were so not tying your shoe.”

“Of course not,” Stiles bragged as he produced a smart phone from his footwear. “I snagged this. You just know he took pictures. It's what I would've done.”

“You just compared yourself to Coach Finstock,” Allison pointed out dumbly.

“This is going on the list of things you and I are never going to mention again,” Stiles warned Allison as he waved a finger at her. “I just really, really do not want to analyze that thought.”

“Let's not discuss this while we're on the road, then,” Allison told Stiles. She grabbed his arm and led him in the direction of the student parking lot. “You can call Isaac and Lydia and tell them to meet us at Deaton's clinic, right?”

“You aren't hanging around for detention?”

Allison laughed as she drug Stiles along. “You and I both know that was never happening. Not today, anyway. We'll take my car since yours is still sitting by the side of the road.”

“Whatever you say, Manager!” Stiles teased.

 

TW

Danny was wiping the sides of his mouth with a tissue while Stiles zipped his pants. They hadn't been together in so long, Stiles had almost forgotten how good it could be. He leaned down and kissed Danny, tasting himself on the other man's tongue.

“I'll have to return the favour soon,” Stiles promised as he caressed Danny's jaw. He lost himself in Danny's eyes. There was something about the way he would look up at Stiles after these moments that made him wonder what it would be like to do more than steal ten minutes here and there. He wanted to wake up in Danny's bed, in his arms. But they had an agreement: no sleepovers.

“I look forward to it.” Danny put his hands on Stiles' thighs and pushed himself up. Then he leaned down and kissed Stiles again, making the office chair swivel. “I think I want to leave Scott.”

Stiles looked up at Danny. “You don't mean that.”

“Of course I do.” Danny's hands moved up Stiles' thighs and settled on his hips. “I still love him, but he doesn't deserve this. And I need you. I need more of you than I can get from this... whatever this is.”

Kissing Danny provided Stiles with a few wonderful seconds to figure out what the hell Danny was doing. Was he really asking Stiles to end his marriage?

“Let's do it,” Stiles told Danny when they broke apart. “Lydia and I haven't been solid in forever. All she cares about is her damn job. I'm happy she's happy, but I'm not happy. If that makes any sense.”

“Perfect sense.” Danny's grin made Stiles want to kiss him again, but he held back. The decision was taken away when Danny pressed his lips to Stiles' like it was the most normal thing in the world. “When do we tell them?”

“Tell who what?” Stiles was still a little dazed. Then he blinked and remembered. “Oh. Right. Probably better that we do it sooner. I don't want to drag it out any longer than necessary. Lydia doesn't deserve this. Neither does Scott.”

“I know,” Danny assured Stiles, his warm breath on the sitting man's lips. “You know this makes us terrible people, right? There is no coming back from telling them. We are really going to ruin your wife and my husband, your best friend, for this.”

Stiles placed his hands on either side of Danny's neck, feeling his pulse beneath his fingertips. “I love you.”

That seemed to be all Danny needed to hear. He beamed down at Stiles, then grabbed him under his arms and lifted him in the air. On instinct, Stiles wrapped his legs around Danny's waist and kissed him again. That's when Lydia chose to walk in, carrying a bag of fast food.

 

TW

“Stiles!” Allison yelled as she shook him, pulling him back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, but her face was still covered in panic. She was holding her phone to her ear with one hand. There was also blood trickling down the side of her face. It looked nasty. “I think I woke him up. Oh god, I hope I woke him up. Isaac, we need you over here now. No, I can't call an ambulance. Just do it!”

Stiles sat up, feeling a pain in his back, but it was like it was detached. He ignored Allison's demands that he stay down. His feet were unsteady but supported him. Then he turned around and saw Allison's vehicle was just a twisted wreck of its former self.

“Are you okay?” Stiles knelt next to Allison and she nodded. Carefully, he helped her up. “What happened?”

“They came out of nowhere. Owls. Dozens of the things. I couldn't see...” Allison was starting to panic, but took deep breaths to calm herself before Stiles could even speak. “And you were asleep and I dragged you from the car but you wouldn't wake up.”

“I've been really sleepy today,” Stiles joked. Allison didn't find it funny. “What about Scott and Danny?”

“I don't know. Stiles, I tried calling, but neither one would answer.” Allison didn't look at Stiles, but he felt his chest tighten. Breathing suddenly became a struggle. “Isaac and Lydia are coming out to pick us up and take us to the clinic.”

“You should call your dad,” Stiles advised. He looked back to the car, then patted his pocket. At least the still had Coach's phone.

“He was my first call. He's with your dad. They're on their way. I guess the sheriff thought his expertise was needed on Danny's dad.”

“Then why are we leaving?”

“Because I need to make sure that Scott is safe. I can't just sit here doing nothing while who knows what is happening at the clinic.” Allison wrapped her arms around herself. Stiles almost felt the need to point out that Allison wasn't Scott's girlfriend anymore: she was involved with Isaac. He ultimately deemed it unnecessary because they didn't need to be dating for Allison to care about Scott.

 

TW

Owls hung all around the clinic. Every elevated surface covered was by the nocturnal birds. Allison readied her crossbow and Isaac shifted in case things got ugly. Stiles and Lydia bother wielded makeshift weapons: an ice scraper and tire iron respectively. It made no sense for Lydia to have an ice scraper in California, but she pointed out that freak weather patterns happened and that since it was her car she got the better weapon.

The owls hooted and blinked at the teens, but never moved from their perches. They were waiting for something. Clearly, the kids were not the event.

“This is very Darach,” Isaac noted, causing Lydia to shudder. It was obvious she still had issues with the memory of Ms. Blake.

“I hate magic,” Allison replied, aiming her crossbow at the nearest owl. It hooted and twisted its head, but made no advancement. “I really, really hate magic.”

The building was dark and a line of mountain ash encircled it. Isaac growled, then looked at the others and told them to go on without him. There was no sense in destroying what was obviously a first line of defence. Allison gave him a parting kiss and whispered something in his ear that Stiles couldn't make out. Then they crossed the line while Isaac skulked back to Lydia's car. It made more sense than having him stand out in the open.

It was no surprise that the door was locked. Allison handed Stiles her crossbow, warning him to keep his fingers away from the trigger and any connected mechanisms, and pulled a pin from her hair. It took about a minute for her to jimmy the lock: a minute full of Lydia trying to not freak out and Stiles attempting to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest.

“Gimme,” Allison said to Stiles the second after the lock clicked. He handed her the crossbow and Lydia tightened her grip on the tire iron. Stiles raised the ice scraper in case he needed to stab down.

The lobby was empty. Slowly, the three crept in single file, Stiles bringing up the rear. He asked Allison if he should lock the door behind them, in case Isaac needed to come in, and Lydia reminded him about the mountain ash. Allison held a finger to her lips. The other two fell silent.

As many times as Stiles had been in the clinic, and half those times involved carrying a half-dead werewolf, he'd never found the place terrifying. That was changing.

“Where would they go?” Allison asked Stiles, reminding him that he was the most familiar with the building's layout. He closed his eyes and thought. The examination room was where they did everything. It was also where Deaton hid his druid supplies in plain sight.

After he told them that, Allison took up the lead again. The tip of her arrow swayed back and forth as they advanced. Before the reached the door to the exam room, it began to open. Scott looked positively ecstatic until he saw the shape that Allison and Stiles were in.

“What happened to you guys? What's with the heavy artillery? And the, uh, ice scraper?”

Lydia and Stiles both lowered their weapons, but Allison did not. Stiles concluded that she was wound way too tight.

“Owls,” Stiles croaked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Owls. They're all over the place, in case you hadn't noticed. They ran Allison and I off the road on their way here. I swear, I hate ancient forgotten gods almost as much as I hate druids.”

“I'll try to not be offended by that.” Deaton pushed past Scott and look over both Allison and Isaac. He must have decided that Allison was the more injured party, because he ushered her into the exam room first. Scott stood back and let everyone pass him by, but grabbed at Stiles' shoulder as he passed by.

“You aren't okay.”

“No duh. My back is killing me,” Stiles snarked as he tried to shrug Scott off. It didn't work.

Scott shook his head and moved his hand up to the side of Stiles' face in a gentle caress. It was the kind his mother used to do whenever he'd scrape his knee. “You know that isn't what I meant. You've been off all day. I can help you, Stiles. You just have to let me.”

Then everything went black.

 

TW

Stiles climbed off Danny and tried to walk to his wife. Lydia threw the bag of lukewarm food at him, but he ducked to the side. Then he he heard Danny cry out in shock when it struck him.

Scott then walked into the room. He looked even more confused and upset than Lydia, which made no sense because he hadn't seen anything. There was no way he could have seen anything.

“What's going on?” Scott asked as he looked around the office, acting as if he'd never seen it before.

“My husband is fucking your husband. That's what is going on,” Lydia shouted at she whirled around to look at Scott. The tears in her eyes made Stiles ache for her. She wasn't supposed to find out yet. Not like this.

Rather than pain, the same hazy confusion clouded Scott's eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Babe, I'm sorry,” Danny said as he left Stiles' side and pushed past Lydia to hold Scott. Stiles sat down and tried very hard to not look at anybody else in the room. “I was going to tell you. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving. I love Stiles.”

“Okay?” Scott's tone made Stiles jerk his head up. “Um, whatever makes you guys happy. Stiles, we need to talk about what the hell is going on here. Now.”

Lydia pushed Danny into the wall and grabbed Scott by his shirt. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Our husbands are leaving us. Danny stole Stiles from me. Why aren't you more upset?”

“Can I just talk to Stiles? Alone?” Scott was finally starting to sound a little bit hectic.

“I'll be fine.” Stiles looked at Danny, but didn't smile.

“Like hell you will!” Lydia shrieked as she whirled back to look at Stiles. “I'm calling my mother and I'm gonna own this business, Stilinski. I will own you and Mahealani both.”

Stiles almost wished she had been full of righteous indignation when she made the declaration, but Lydia was sobbing and broken. She ran from the office. The thought to chase after her occurred to him, but Stiles pushed it away. At least it was all finally out in the open.

Danny looked at Stiles again, only to receive a nod. He gave Scott a wide berth, then left. He closed the door behind him.

“Scott, I know you're pissed about Danny, and we probably won't stay friends, but I still want to try. It's selfish and horrible of me. I know. Still, you're my best friend. You're my brother.”

“I don't care about Danny,” Scott told Stiles calmly as he walked to the desk. “Stiles, what the hell is going on? Where are Allison and Deaton? Why aren't we in the clinic? Is the paupueo or whatever it is doing this?”

The things Scott was saying made no sense. “Scott, Allison and Jackson moved to DC years ago to be NRA lobbyists. You know this. And what is a Papaweho?”

“Oh god,” Scott groaned. “Stiles, listen to me, something weird is going on. You're not acting like you, and you're married to Lydia and apparently I'm gay or something but it's not real. This isn't real. You're a teenager and I'm a teenager and I'm a werewolf and Danny is a Menehune and there is an owl god trying to kill him and I need you to remember that.”

Stiles slowly rolled back away from Scott. The man had cracked. It was the only explanation.

“Scott, buddy, breathe. There is no such thing as werewolves, we graduated from high school almost eight years ago, and I'm pretty sure Menehune isn't a real word. You're going to be okay. Danny and I both still care about you, and we're going to get you some help.” Stiles reached for the cell phone in his shirt pocket, but Scott reached across the desk and grabbed his arm.

 

TW

“They're coming around!” Allison said in a tear-stained voice. Stiles felt her hands on his face and realized his head was in her lap. He blinked and rolled over to see Lydia and Danny already helping Scott to his feet. Deaton was putting a cork back into a vial.

“It always works,” Deaton replied as he put the vial back into his cabinet. Then he squatted next to Stiles and looked up at Scott. “What happened to you two?”

“I just tried to take away Stiles' pain. You know, like you taught me to when I was an Omega,” Scott looked over at Stiles, “Dude, do you remember what the hell happened?”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed as he sat up. He didn't feel quite up to standing yet. “I remember everything, Scott. Every time I fall asleep, I go there. I thought they were dreams at first, but dreams don't have that kind of continuity. Not usually.”

“Illusions?” Deaton asked, shining a light into Stiles' eyes. He had to blink and look away.

Scott looked at Danny and stepped away. “Can you...Can you touch things in an illusion? Can you touch people? Because I'm pretty certain I was able to feel things.”

“If it's a strong enough enchantment, I suppose so. But I'm a druid, Scott, not a wizard. There are limits to what I know of magic.” Deaton looked back to Stiles. “When did these dreams start? What are they about?”

“They started the night after we bonded with the Nemeton. I... I liked them. They let me be happy. Things are good when I'm asleep, and we can all agree that our waking hours haven't been that great lately.”

“I was fine until today,” Danny added quietly. Nobody acknowledged him. “Um, what is a Nemeton? Does it have anything to do with the paupueo?”

“Honestly, I don't even know what what this paupueo is, but I know it's unrelated to the Nemeton. Or it was.” Deaton swept his eyes over Stiles and Allison before settling them onto Scott. “I told you three that it would draw the supernatural to Beacon Hills. It's become a paranormal light house.”

Allison put a hand on both of Stiles' shoulders. “And we're dealing with it. Right now. We can talk about your dreams later, Stiles. Do you still have Coach's phone?”

“Why do you have Coach's phone?” Danny asked. Then he looked around the exam room. “Where is Lydia?”

Everyone looked around, but she was gone. Scott and closed his eyes and smelled the air. When he opened them, they were red and his fangs had begun to grow. “It's here, and it has her.”

He ran out of the room, with Allison hot on his heels. Stiles looked at Deaton and Danny. Someone had to stay behind to protect them. Because for it to be able to get past mountain ash meant something. Stiles wasn't sure if the stuff only worked on werewolves, but still. He was worried.

Then Lydia screamed and Stiles prepped to bolt. He cast a parting glance back to Danny and stopped. Danny was pale and shaking. His breath was coming in wheezes. Stiles looked back to the door to the exam room. Then he smiled at Danny and walked to the door and clicked the lock in place. Deaton nodded at Stiles between mixing ingredients for whatever he was plotting.

“It'll be okay,” Stiles told Danny as he walked to him. He held a hand out, and Danny took it. “Just stay behind me and do whatever I say. If I tell you to run, you need to run. Understand?”

Danny agreed, and Stiles set about looking for something with which he could protect himself. His ice scraper was gone, which was just as well since it was a joke of an idea anyway. All the while, he was reassuringly squeezing Danny's hand. He'd just settled on a scalpel Deaton had sitting out when someone tried to open the door. Danny squeezed Stiles' hand so hard he thought it might break.

“It's over,” Allison said from the other side of the door. “Or, we think it is.”

“Could you please open the door?” Lydia asked quietly.

Still nervous, Stiles let go of Danny and held up a hand, as if to tell him to stay back. He gave the scalpel an experimental thrust. Deaton shook his head at Stiles and walked over to the door and opened it. Allison and Lydia walked in and looked at Deaton.

“You're gonna want to go see Scott. He's in your lobby with the body,” Allison told him. Stiles noticed her crossbow was unarmed empty. Then she looked to Danny and Stiles. “It wasn't an owl god.”

“What?” Danny asked, brushing past Stiles. There was obvious pain in his voice. “But my dad...”

“Was killed by a cult member. A human. He's dead. I... he's dead,” Allison told Danny. “We're pretty sure you're gonna be safe now. He was using magic, though. To control the owls. But there is still one thing we don't know.”

“What?”

Stiles noticed that, even though he finally had answers, Danny wasn't any happier.

“Your dad's body wasn't moved. There were signs of a struggle and no drag marks at the cross country path. And they aren't available for public use. Why was he there? Is there something you're forgetting?”

“I literally know everything you guys know,” Danny sighed. He sat down on the nearest surface, which was the exam table, and slumped. “You said he was a cult member? As in there are others? Does this mean I'm still in danger? Is my mom in trouble, too? She's home all alone right now. Without me or my dad.”

“I can call my dad,” Allison looked at Stiles out of the corner of her eye. “He can stop by your mom's house. The sheriff, too. They're together right now and should probably know what's going on anyway. And I need to go break the mountain ash seal as well. Isaac is still trapped outside and Scott stuck is inside. I should just go.”

Alone with Danny, Stiles realized he was still holding the scalpel. He threw it at the wall but kept from screaming. Danny was still pale and Stiles didn't know what to say. He'd meant the things he had said to Danny: the things about his mother and how he processed her death. Now, he wondered if Danny knowing about his ulterior motive would dull the words if he expanded on them.

“It will never be okay.” Stiles sat next to Danny, his legs hanging a few inches above the floor. “Your dad: you'll never get over it. It'll numb, heal over, but the scar will still be there. Phantom pains will linger. There will be flareups. But it gets easier. Your breath stops catching. You can say his name fondly in the past tense without wanting to cry.”

“Your mom.” Danny wasn't asking, but his voice was quiet and small.

“Yeah. My mom. Sometimes I even go a whole day without thinking about her. And I don't feel guilty about it. I used to, but not anymore. It's gonna be fine. You can cry if you want to. I lied before, when I told you I wouldn't share anything you'd say, but I'm telling you the truth now. If you want to talk, about anything, you can call me.”

Danny didn't say anything. He didn't accept, but he didn't rebuff. They just sat there for a few minutes in silence until Scott, splattered with blood that had already started to congeal, walked into the room. Stiles saw Danny's face lighten, and he looked over to see Scott close the door and lean against it.

“Allison told you, right? She said you told you guys.” Scott was still breathing heavy, like he was recently exerting himself. Stile didn't want to wonder what else he had been doing. “I hate to ask this, but can you give us a minute to talk?”

“Yeah, sure, Lydia probably needs someone to scrape the owl crap off her car anyway,” Stiles said as he jumped down.

Scott shook his head. “No, Stiles, I need you to stay. Danny, I don't know if you want to, but the guy... his body is still in the lobby. They're getting ready to dispose of it. Isaac is gonna help Deaton or something. If you need to do anything, you might want to hurry.”

The face Danny made was hard. Stiles shivered as the heat drained from the room. Slowly, Danny lowered himself to the floor. Scott opened the door and stepped out of the path Danny's feet heavily tread.

“So...” Stiles waited until Scott had closed the door to finish his sentence. “This is about what you saw.”

“I didn't just see it, Stiles. I was there. I've taken someone else's pain dozens of times without that happening, but that never happened before. And it's freaking me out. I just helped Allison kill a man, and all I can think about it that dream world of yours. Because it wasn't a dream, Stiles. Danny... I actually felt him hug me.”

There was nothing for Stiles to say, so he climbed back onto the table and sat. He listened.

“You weren't you, you acted like I was crazy, but you're here and you remember every bit of it. What the hell is going on?”

“I don't know,” Stiles admitted, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I'm there whenever I'm asleep. Or unconscious, I guess. It's like, when I'm there, this life doesn't exist. And until today, it's been happy. Really happy.”

“And I'm gay,” Scott added with a grin.

“Yeah, you and Danny are adorable together. Sorry about being a homewrecker. I think.” Stiles found it easy to laugh despite everything that had happened. He supposed it was a side effect of how screwed up his life had become, but he was glad that he could still do it.

Scott crossed the room and sat next to Stiles. “You know I'm not gay, right?”

“Well, you and Danny have been really close today...” Stiles teased, surprised by how lightly he could discuss the topic when before he couldn't even look at them. Then a weight crashed on his chest when he thought about it. “You and Danny aren't...”

“I'm just being a friend. My mom told me that intimate, soothing touches can do a lot to help someone. I guess it's something she learned on the job. A lot of patients and their families need to be reassured or hug someone and the doctors usually leave that to the nurses.”

“So no Scotty on the down low?” Stiles bumped Scott's shoulder with his own.

“What about you? Are you secretly plotting to steal him from me?” Scott leaned forward and looked up at Stiles. When he saw that Stiles was no longer laughing, the smile fell from his face. “Are you okay?”

Stiles bit his lip and focused his eyes on a spot of blood Scott had dripped onto the floor. “I'm not proud of what the other me did, but I get it. I love Lydia. I have my plan, y'know, but Danny's always been kind of there. And ever since the summer where you were busy with summer school and Allison was gone and I kind of stopped thinking about Lydia as much as I used to... Danny's been kind of there in the back of my head. And then he stopped being at the back when the dreams started.”

“You don't have a ten year plan to win Danny over do you?” Scott asked with a small chuckle, trying to get Stiles to smile. “It's fine to be into him. Just... don't push it like you did with Lydia. At least not right now. After Allison's mom died, everything went to hell between us. And I don't want to see Danny reject you the way Allison did me. Learn from my many, many mistakes.”

“But Allison went hardcore 'everything must die' and Danny hasn't. Not exactly the same thing,” Stiles pointed out. “And Allison was blaming Derek and you were cozying up to Derek to double cross Gerard and that was a whole thing. I'm just being Danny's friend right now. Because I have been where he was, and if someone tried to use that against me...”

“I wouldn't let them,” Scott interrupted as he slung a bloody arm over Stiles' shoulder. If it weren't for the fact that Stiles was already covered in his own blood, and probably Allison's as well, from the crash, he might have shrugged Scott away. But he didn't want to do that.

 

TW

When his dad held him and wouldn't let him go, Stiles bit back a groan for Danny's sake. Then the sheriff saw the other boy looking sullen and hugged him, too, while Stiles stood back and watched. It meant something. Danny finally broke, relying on the sheriff to hold him up as he sobbed.

Allison's father, Stiles knew his name was Chris but he also knew to call him “Mr. Argent”, held his daughter and said nothing. Scott and Lydia stood away from the families. They knew that they hadn't experienced what everyone else had. They'd lost parents through divorce, not death. Stiles had no idea where Deaton was, and Isaac had made himself scarce when Mr. Argent showed up.

As his father comforted Danny, saying the things Stiles wished he'd heard when his mother died, Scott just silently placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder. It was enough.

Everyone remained silent. The only sounds were the Danny's cries and the sheriff's words. Stiles looked at Scott, then Lydia, and nodded. Allison could explain to the adults what they knew. They slipped away in silence. His father looked at Stiles, but the son just nodded and Danny and offered a weak smile.

When they were outside, Isaac approached them. The mountain ash barrier had been broken and the remnants long since blew away with the wind.

“He was a cult member,” Stiles sighed, glad to hear his own voice working again.

“Which means he likely wasn't the only one,” Lydia agreed. She kicked at a loose piece of the parking lot. “Is Danny still a target? I mean, how do we even know if he's a Menehune? There's next to nothing known about them. And he fits none of the known descriptions. At all.”

Scott's eyes flashed red and Stiles involuntarily stepped back. He couldn't grow used to that, no matter how hard he tried. “It doesn't matter if he's human or not. All that matters is that we stop anyone who tries to kill him or anyone else.”

“We still have no idea who the guy was, though,” Isaac reminded them. He too stood back from Scott. Stiles didn't even have to guess why. He had no idea how Isaac and Scott were able to live together. “I mean, we couldn't exactly ask him questions, what with the magic and the fighting. But yeah.”

“We have some breathing room,” Lydia sighed. She brushed the hair from her face and looked at Stiles. “And Danny isn't the only cause for concern.”

Stiles groaned and did his best to not look at Scott. He had been hoping that everyone had forgotten about his dreams.

“What are you talking about?” Isaac looked between Scott and Stiles. “I'm missing something.”

“You are,” Lydia confirmed. “Stiles, I don't want to be a bitch, but what's been happening to you is pretty serious. And it's because of the Nemeton.”

“Is it like Allison's night terrors?” Isaac asked before realizing he shouldn't have said anything.

The Earth was almost thrown off kilter with the speed in which Scott turned his head. “Allison has night terrors?”

“I didn't say that. And you won't say anything to her about it,” Isaac warned with a snarl.

“Scott, do you do anything in your sleep?” Lydia asked. Stiles was fairly certain he was thinking the same thing she was.

“He sleepwalks. Every night,” Isaac told the group with a smirk. “The other day, he woke up in bed with the neighbour. Mr. Mitsuda.”

“The creepy old guy who always hits on your mom?” Stiles snorted at Scott's outraged face. “Dude, you have to admit that it's funny.”

“No I don't,” Scott pouted. Then he glared at Isaac. “Ass.”

Isaac looked proud of himself, but Lydia looked worried. “You guys lose control when you're asleep. I know that feeling. It happened to me back when... It still happens to me, actually. But mine happens when I'm awake. Because I'm a banshee. And Peter.”

“Peter...” Scott ruminated on his name. Stiles didn't like thinking about Peter. He was the one who started all of this, back when he bit Scott. Also, he was creepy. Really creepy. “Next to Deaton, he knows more about the supernatural stuff than anyone else. He might know about the Menehune and the Paupueo.”

“Deaton doesn't know about them. It's highly unlikely that Peter would,” Stiles argued. He offered Lydia a sympathetic glance and chewed on his thumbnail. “And there's no guarantee that Peter would tell the truth, anyway.”

“I'd make him,” Scott growled, his eyes still red and his chest heaving.

The display of potential brutality was cut short by Isaac laughing. “You're a boy scout. And Peter knows it. Allison and I can deal with Peter and the Nemeton. You three are on Danny detail.”

“Shouldn't I be involved in the Peter stuff? Since, you know, you're an idiot?” Stiles asked Isaac with a tone of forced casualness. “And I don't trust Allison to not have an itchy trigger finger.”

“You're on Danny detail. That's that.” Isaac looked at the other three. Nobody challenged him, even though Stiles knew they all wanted to do so. Then Isaac turned around and walked into the clinic.

 

TW

Even though he didn't want to, the sheriff had agreed to let Scott and Stiles drive Danny home. Stiles' Jeep was still sitting on the side of a road. He didn't much care, offering to drive Danny's car home.

It was a quiet ride. Scott sat in the back with Danny, leaving the front passenger seat empty, but he wasn't as physical in his comfort as he had been before. Stiles wondered if it was because of what he'd seen when he was in Stiles' dream world.

When they pulled up in front of Danny's house, Stiles wondered how he and Scott were gonna get home. Deaton had given them a change of clothes, because Scott had taken to keeping some at the clinic after one too many incidents with his mother, but it didn't change the fact that Stiles was too tired to walk home.

“You can stay, if you want. I don't think my mom would mind,” Danny told them after the engine was killed. Stiles looked in the rear view mirror and caught Scott's eyes.

“I can stay,” Stiles offered, noting his friend's apprehension. “Scott has to go follow up with Deaton and Mr. Argent. He's just our guard until we get you home.”

“Right.” Scott nodded his appreciation at Stiles before looking at Danny. “If you guys need me, call. Any time.”

“We will,” Stiles assured him. Danny didn't look happy, but he agreed. Then they all climbed out of the car, and Stiles offered a salute to Scott. His best friend returned it, smiled at Danny, and took off running in the the direction they had just come. While he didn't have a clue what Scott was going to do, Stiles knew he appreciated the out.

With a smile that Danny didn't return, Stiles closed the driver's door and tossed the other teen the keys.

“Oh, you're back. And you brought Stiles with you,” Danny's mother said as she pulled her son into a hug. It was very much the same one the sheriff had given his son. Feeling unnecessary, Stiles stood off to the side and quietly waited for them to finish. When she finally released Danny, his mother waved Stiles inside. “It's a little chilly out.”

It really wasn't cold at all, but Stiles just bit his bottom lip and walked into the house. He'd already been in the house once that day, but something about it felt different. He couldn't place his finger on just what it was.

“We'll be upstairs. Stiles kinda hit a deer with his jeep. The sheriff knows, so I have to take him home tomorrow.”

“Leave your door open,” Mrs. Mahealani warned, making Danny blanch. It also made Stiles bite even harder on his lip and nod. He'd been able to ignore it before. The memories were easily able to be pushed to the back of his mind, to be explained away as a dream.

He dared to let his eyes close for a second. Standing at the top of the stairs, hand holding the railing so tightly his knuckles were probably white, Stiles let out a shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” Danny's hand was warm on Stiles' shoulder. He could even feel the heat through the grey hoodie. He lowered the hood that had hid his injuries and looked at Danny.

“I'm fine. It's just been a long day. A really long day. But you already know that.”

“I do,” Danny sighed in agreement, removing his hand from Stiles. “Come on, let's go to my room.”

Even though Stiles protested, Danny closed the door when they went into his bedroom. Then he threw himself onto his bed. Stiles nervously glanced at the different options, then sat in the chair he'd occupied earlier. Danny turned his head to stare at Stiles but said nothing.

“Did you want to talk?” Stiles asked. He steepled his fingers and looked out Danny's window. “I mean, you have to have a million questions. And my experience in these things is that parents actively overlook the obvious. So we can speak freely.”

“I don't think I want to. At least not right now. I just... Can we get some sleep?” Danny buried his face into his comforter and kicked off his shoes.

Stiles swallowed and started untying his shoes. “That's fine. We can talk tomorrow. If you want. Is there a guest room or do you want me to sleep on the couch on your living room? Oh, and I should probably give you this. Just in case.”

Stiles tossed a small vial of black powder to Danny. It was sealed shut with a screw-on lid.

“What is it?” Danny opened it an cautiously sniffed. Stiles wasn't surprised that nothing happened.

“Mountain ash. I only know it works on the lupine ones. The rest, I don't know. Lydia isn't bothered by it, but she seems immune to a lot of things. But it doesn't seem to effect you, either. Still, it's better than nothing.”

“I haven't had anyone stay over since Jackson,” Danny confessed as he screwed the lid back onto the vial. He sat up on his knees and set it on his nightstand. “We have a guest room, but my aunt is supposed to show up late tonight and stay there. And she'll have my cousin who is sleeping on the couch.”

Danny ran a hand along the comforter. Stiles swallowed again. “Do you have a sleeping bag?”

“I can see if we have a spare blanket that's clean and you can sleep on the floor. Or we can share. If that's fine with you.” Danny didn't look at Stiles as he offered.

“We can share,” Stiles said with a quick nod. “I mean, I do this all the time with Scott, so it's no big deal.”

He licked his lips and closed his eyes again. He could see his dream self in Danny's arms. The taste of Danny's lips lingered on the tip of his tongue, half-forgotten and just out of reach. It was a terrible idea. Horrible. Even considering it made Stiles feel like a terrible person.

Still avoid Danny's gaze, Stiles stood then unfastened his belt and let his jeans drop around his ankles. He kept the hoodie on as he walked over to the bed and sat on the side of the bed opposite Danny. This was nothing like sleeping with Scott.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Danny offered, picking up on how nervous Stiles clearly was. “I mean, if you're uncomfortable, it's fine.”

“I-I'm not. It's just that...” Stiles wasn't sure what he wanted to say. “When we were at Deaton's Clinic and talking about my, you can't call them dreams, but it's the only word I have. But they were about you. And me. And Scott and Lydia.”

Silence settled over the room for a few heartbeats.

“Lydia and I were married. You and I were business partners, and you were married to Scott.”

Danny interrupted Stiles with a break into laughter. It gave Stiles an opportunity to offer a small smile of his own before continuing.

“Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous. Scott is straight and you're out of our league.”

“Our?” Danny had stopped laughing and was looking at Stiles with his head turned.

Still wearing a small grin that he didn't really feel, Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “That's the other part of my dream. You and I aren't just business partners. We're having an affair. And in the last one, the one that Scott interrupted with his weird werewolf ability, we were found out.”

“But this is just a dream. Right?” Danny looked overwhelmed, and Stiles wished he hadn't said anything. “Like, you're straight, and so is Scott, and no offence but Lydia sees you as just a friend.”

“I think I gave up on Lydia awhile ago. If it happens it'll happen. I would still like it to happen. But...”

“But?”

He breathed deep. Even though the air in the room was hot and humid, his chest was cold. Stiles' heart threatened to beat out of his ribcage. This could not be happening. He wouldn't let it happen. Not today: not when Danny's father hadn't even been buried.

“Nothing. I just have weird dreams. It's no big deal. I shouldn't even be bothering you with this.”

“Please, bother away.” Danny swept his arm over the room. “I need something to take my mind off of this. Something that I can laugh at. And if it's a straight guy having wet dreams about me, then yeah, I'll laugh.”

“Right.” Stiles gave another smile that didn't match at all what he felt inside. “As long as you find it funny, it's serving a purpose.”

Reclining, Stiles laid on the bed with his back to Danny and stared at the wall. He didn't even bother climbing under the blanket. That should've been a hint that Danny would notice something was still up. The hand on his arm was Stiles' clue that Danny did notice something.

“Hey, Stiles, this is gonna be silly. You never said that you were straight. And, well, are you?”

“I've been in love with Lydia since the third grade. Everyone knows that,” Stiles gave in a non-answer.

“But you didn't answer the question.” Danny's hand was still on Stiles' arm, but he lifted it when Stiles rolled over. He was a lot closer than Stiles had expected.

“You don't want to have this conversation. Not today.” Stiles looked up Danny and let his hands wave about in the air since he didn't know what else to do.

Apparently, Danny agreed, because he didn't say anything else. He just leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to Stiles'. Then he pulled back up and stared him expectantly.

It wasn't that it had been Stiles' first kiss. There has been Heather, and even Lydia. Both had been sprung on him. Danny had even been sprung on him. And Danny wasn't in a good place. He likely had no idea what he was doing.

Danny tasted like Stiles remembered from his dreams. He propped himself up with his elbow and kissed Danny back. This one was slower. Deeper. He let his fingertips explore Danny's neck and chest before pulling away. It was a horrible idea.

“You're not straight,” Danny laughed lightly as he sat up and stretched. “I kinda figured because, you know, you were always hitting on me. But I didn't expect, well, this.”

“I don't know what that means.” Stiles sat up as well and turned his back to Danny. Looking for something to do, he ran his thumb along the interior of the elastic band in his boxers. “But you're right. I'm not straight. And I never said I was, just for the record. But this is the absolute worst time for anything. Danny, your dad died today. Or last night. Whatever. But he's dead and I don't want to be a distraction.”

“You're not a distraction. Yes, I need one, but you're not that. Or maybe you are. I don't know. I don't know! But that was nice. Surprisingly.”

“Surprisingly?” Stiles arched and eyebrow and looked back at Danny.

Exasperated, Danny rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant. I didn't expect it to happen.”

“I'll sleep on the floor.”

“Huh?”

Stiles grabbed a pillow and slid off the bed. He threw it on the floor and stretched out. “We'll talk in the morning. Good night.”

 

TW

When he woke up, Stiles realized he hadn't been to the dream world. He wondered if Scott had anything to do with that, or if it was Danny's fault. He was hot and made to throw off the blanket when his dulled senses alerted him. He hadn't had a blanket the night before. Danny could have thrown one on him while he slept, but it didn't explain when the floor had grown a mattress. Or why he was pressed against Danny's back with an arm slung around the other boy's stomach.

It was still dark outside. He tried to sit up, but Stiles couldn't see Danny's alarm clock. Carefully, he pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his hoodie and checked the time. It wasn't even four in the morning. Groaning, Stiles pressed his forehead to Danny's back. It was nice and solid.

Stiles climbed out of the bed and fumbled around on the floor for his pants. He slid them on as quietly as he could. Then he used his cell phone's light to find his shoes, and didn't even put them on before silently leaving Danny's room. His socks padded his flight, not even disturbing the girl asleep on the sofa, and Stiles slipped out the front door. He sat on the stoop and used one hand to put on his shoes and the other to call Scott.

Twice, the calls went to voice mail, but on the third Scott finally answered. He sounded more sleepy than grumpy. “Stiles, what is it? Is something wrong?”

“I need you to pick me up. I messed up, Scott. I don't want to talk about it on the phone.”

“I don't have a car. Mom has the night shift, Dude.”

Groaning, Stiles looked back at the door behind him. “Your bike is fine. Trust me.”

“Give me about twenty minutes.”

Stiles agreed then ended the call. It was actually about a ten minute wait before anything happened. Something across the street caught Stiles' attention, and at first he dismissed it as a raccoon. Then he saw the wings.

The grip on his phone threatened to break the device. The owl sat on top of the electric pole and stared down at Stiles. A cold chill ran down his spine and he knew it wasn't over. Everyone else was likely asleep, but Stiles tried calling them anyway. Lydia went straight to voice mail, but Isaac answered Allison's phone. Of course, he wasn't at home with Scott. Of course.

“What do you want?”

“There's an owl,” Stiles hissed his into the phone. He didn't really like Isaac, but he'd put up with him because he was friends with Scott. That didn't change when Isaac moved in with Scott. It did change when Isaac started seeing Allison. He still had to put up with Isaac whenever he visited, but he didn't have to pretend to be nice anymore.

“So shoo it away,” Isaac grumbled on his end. “We're sleeping.”

“Wake Allison up and put her on or I'll call Mr. Argent and tell him where you are.” Stiles really liked that he didn't have to pretend to be nice.

Isaac told Stiles what he could do with his genitals and several orifices, but a minute later a very sleepy Allison was on the phone. “What is it, Stiles? I was asleep. And school isn't for another four hours. Couldn't this wait?”

“I'm at Danny's. And there is an owl. Get over here.”

“Did you forget that I don't have a car?” Allison mumbled into the phone. Before he could answer, another owl swooped low over the yard and settled on a fence across the street. “We killed the guy, Stiles. You're panicking.”

Rising to his feet, Stiles opened the front door and let himself back into the house. After he closed it, he locked the door. Allison hadn't ended the call yet.

“There's another one.” He crept quietly through the living room and back up the stairs. “Allison, we thought there might be more, and I'm pretty sure there are.”

“Stiles, I don't have a car. I can't get to you. I'll call Lydia and Scott, but who knows how long that'll be.”

“Scott's on his way. Allison, just wake your dad up. We'll probably need him. If you're worried about Isaac, just have him sneak out through the doggy door.” Stiles opened the door to Danny's room and breathed deeply. “Listen, just call me when you figure something out. I'm gonna try to get Danny out of here when Scott shows up.”

He disconnected the call and slid his phone into his back pocket. It hadn't occurred to him, but Danny did have a car. They wouldn't have to wait for Allison.

“Hey, wake up,” Stiles whispered as he leaned over and shook Danny. The other boy awoke with a start and almost knocked Stiles over. He calmed himself, then stared at Stiles as though he had no idea why he was there. “Scott's on his way over. We have to leave.”

“What? Why?” Danny rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on his nightstand. Stiles wondered how he'd missed it. “Stiles, it's early. Just get back in bed and we'll wake up at seven like civilized people.”

It was weird how casually Danny told Stiles to get back in bed. For a second, Stiles' couldn't think of what to say. Then he choked out one word. “Owls.”

That was enough to get Danny to bolt up out of bed. “What did you say?”

“There are owls outside. Watching your house. Scott is coming. I called Allison. But when Scott gets here we have to leave. You're still a target.” Stiles pulled the covers from a reluctant Danny. He was still wearing the clothes he had been the day before. Clearly, he was as exhausted as he had let on.

“But, my mom, my family...” Danny began to protest as Stiles pulled on his arm.

“Are fine. They could have attacked yesterday and didn't. They want you, so if we lead you away they're safe.” It was flimsy logic, and Stiles knew it, but it was all he had. The last thing they needed was for Danny's family to find out just what was happening in Beacon Hills. “Listen, is there anything in your house we can use?”

“My dad kept a gun in his bedroom.”

“Anything that doesn't have a statistical likelihood of killing the person holding it?” Stiles clarified in a stage whisper as he paced across Danny's floor. “I'll leave the guns to the Argents and people who trained with them.”

Danny pulled on his shoes and just stared at Stiles. “There are golf clubs in my closet. Dad and I always... we used to play during the summer.”

“Perfect.” He opened the closet as quietly as he could and saw the golf bag standing up in the back. He grabbed two random clubs, tossing one to Danny.

“A four iron? Okay.” Danny felt the head and closed his eyes. It was obvious he was remembering something he shared with his dad. When he opened his eyes, he was smiling. “And you would grab the putter.”

“Is there something wrong with it?” Stiles tested it with a small swing. It was light, and would probably snap if he hit one of the many werewolves he knew, but it would have to work.

There was no chance for Danny to answer. They heard Scott pull up, his bike louder than Stiles had expected, and Danny jumped to the window. Stiles grabbed him and pulled him away. If he was a target, like Stiles thought, there was no reason for him to make himself so obvious.

“Let's go,” Stiles whispered in Danny's ear.

They slipped out of the house without waking anyone, and Scott killed his engine.

“Um, I can't take both of you.” Scott looked at Danny and Stiles oddly, helmet in his hands. “Technically, I shouldn't even take one of you, but apparently it was kind of an emergency?”

“Forget that. Don't you see them?” Stiles pointed across the street, where there were now five owls watching them. Danny pulled his car keys from his pocket and ran to his car. The door was still unlocked, and he sat behind the steering wheel.

“Dammit. Stiles, you didn't mention them on the phone.” Scott hung his helmet on the handlebar of his bike. “Where are we going?”

“I didn't see them until after I hung up. And there was just one. Also, I have no idea where we're going. But you're riding with us. Because, you know, fangs.”

Scott looked over at Danny, who was clearly starting to freak, then back to Stiles. “He isn't driving.”

“Fine by me. You decide where we're headed. I'll call Allison and let her and Isaac know.” Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket, but Scott grabbed his wrist.

“Allison is with Isaac?”

“Don't tell me you didn't know.” With a roll of his eyes, Stiles pulled free and walked over to the car. He pulled the driver's side door open and told Danny to move. “There is no way in hell we're letting you drive. No offence, but I've been in enough car crashes this week.”

 

TW

“This is what you came up with?” Stiles could have smacked Scott, but he hadn't parked the car yet.

They pulled up to the school, and Stiles sighed. He turned around and looked at Danny. The other boy was staring out the window, but at what Stiles couldn't be sure. Being the responsible one sucked.

When the car did stop, Stiles smacked Scott on the arm. “Seriously. The school. Let me call Allison and unlock the door. You two wait here.”

“How did you get a key to the school?” Scott asked. “And there are probably alarms.”

“Allison's grandfather had a set, and I made copies after he went missing. And the school never took his code out of the system.”

“The cameras are taken care of,” Danny told them from the back seat. Stiles and Scott both looked at him. He was holding a tablet in his hands. “What?”

“Where did that come from?” Stiles pointed at the device.

Danny shrugged and put it in a pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. “I sometimes leave it in here during school. I had one stolen out of my locker last year.”

“And the cameras?”

“Our school has really crappy firewalls,” Danny answered with a shrug. “We should probably go inside. You know, since a cult wants to murder me and all.”

“Oh. Right.” Scott nodded and looked at Stiles. “You call Allison, I'll get Danny inside. Give me the keys.”

Stiles handed them over, indicated which one to use, and stayed in the car as Scott and Danny trotted to the building.

“We're at the school,” Stiles told Allison the moment the phone call went through.

“Thank you,” an unfamiliar replied. “I'll have to thank the young lady's father and boyfriend for the help.”

“Who are you?” Stiles roared into the phone. He looked up and Scott looked back at him. There was fear etched on his face.

The call ended and Stiles threw his phone in frustration. It bounced off the dashboard and landed in his lap. He popped the car door open and kicked it the rest of the way, ignoring Danny's cry to stop.

“I don't know who, but someone has Mr. Argent and Isaac. Someone answered Allison's phone.” Stiles stopped to breathe when he reached the other two.

“What about Allison?” The panic in Scott's voice was all too familiar, but it was clearly new for Danny.

“Don't know. They didn't mention having her. Technically, they didn't say they have Isaac and Mr. Argent, either, but it was heavily implied. Allison might have gotten away. But they know where we are.”

“Is it the cult?” Danny's voice broke with fear. Stiles looked into his eyes and willed for Danny to calm down.

“Probably, but they would have found us no matter what. Look, we just have to get inside,” Scott told Danny and Stiles as he pushed open the door to the school. Then he looked at Stiles. “They're at Allison's house?”

“More than likely.” Stiles knew what was coming. “I've got it here. Can you run there? In case Danny and I need the car.”

Scott looked at both sets of keys he was carrying, then handed them to Stiles. “I'm sorry, I just have to make sure they're okay. Go into the boiler room and lock the door. Please.”

Waving off Scott's pleading, Stiles assured him it was fine. Then he remembered that he'd left his golf club in the car. So had Danny. He held a finger up to Scott, then ran over to retrieve them. As he was pulling himself out of the car, he heard Scott roar.

His best friend threw the broken body of an owl into the pavement of the parking lot. Scott and the owl were both close enough for Stiles to assume that he had been the target. “Shit. Allison is on her own. They're here. You and Danny get inside. I'll see how many more are coming, then I'll find you. Boiler room.”

Stiles gave Scott a since smile, then ran to the school building and ushered Danny inside, handing him one of the golf clubs. Danny then insisted that they trade because he didn't want the putter.

“So fussy,” Stiles cracked as he tossed Danny one club and caught the other. “Scott said to go to the boiler room. I'm pretty sure it offers no way to escape, but it also has one point of entry, so whatever.”

“That was very military of you,” Danny observed with a grin. “Didn't know you were so butch.”

“Just go,” Stiles laughed as he pushed Danny. It was highly inappropriate, but he needed the levity. They both did.

The school was dark, so Stiles illuminated their way with his phone. There was a flapping of wings that spooked them. Danny's free hand latched onto Stiles' sleeve.

Spinning around in a slow circle, Stiles held the putter up with one hand and his phone out with the other. Then something sharp grazed the top of his head. Crying out, Stiles dropped the phone and he heard it fly apart in pieces. He also heard a squawk as Danny batted at a bird with his golf club.

The owl, which didn't surprise Stiles, fell to the floor next to him and he kicked out at it. The bird skittered across the floor and slammed into a locker, the sound of its bones snapping sweet to his ears.

“Let's go, before more of them get in somehow,” Stiles ordered, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that burned across the top of his head.

When they reached the boiler room, Stiles sat on a nearby barrel and watched the door. Danny puttered around looking for something, then pushed a rag to Stiles' injury.

“It was the cleanest thing I could find in the dark,” Danny apologized as he held it in place. “That, uh, scrape? It looks nasty.”

“Thanks.” Stiles reached up to hold the rag so Danny wouldn't have to do it, but Danny pushed his hand away.

“I need to do something so I don't feel like a completely useless damsel in distress,” he explained as he let his golf club drop to the floor and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. “I mean, you guys have done nothing but run around trying to save my ass and I've just done nothing.”

“It's fine.” Stiles became aware of the blood drying on the side of his face and tried to wipe it away with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Seriously, we're the good guys, it's what we do.”

Danny showed his appreciation by kissing Stiles again. This time, Stiles didn't entertain thoughts of whether or not it was the right thing to do. He just kissed Danny back.

Then Scott came into the boiler room.

“Oh, um, sorry for interrupting. But there are a lot of them and they have magic and I hate magic.” Scott slammed the door shut and shoved what looked like a large and heavy toolbox in front of it. “You guys might want to hide or something.”

Danny let go of Stiles and picked his golf club back up. The rag slid off and hit the floor, but nobody moved to pick it up.

Stiles and Danny both backed up and raised their weapons, and Scott bared his claws. Then the door exploded open and Scott batted the toolbox out of his way. He charged at the first person to enter the room, but she blasted him away with a bright burst.

Seeing more people filing into the room, Stiles pushed at Danny to run as he uselessly threw his club at some random man. Scott wasn't down long, because he roared and another man screamed.

There wasn't much to the boiler room, but there was what looked like a caged room at the end of it. Stiles pushed Danny into it and told him to lock it, then whirled around to see that the woman who had led the invasion.

She was like Danny, dark skin and black hair, which told Stiles she was probably from Hawaii or some other Polynesian island. He made a fist and started to throw what he knew was a useless punch at her, but before he could get anywhere near the woman she waved her hand and Stiles slammed into the wire wall of the cage. Danny must have been hit, too, because Stiles heard him cry out.

“The last one,” the woman said as she flicked her wrist. Stiles flew out of her way and crashed into a nearby wall. Something cracked, but it didn't feel like it was something of his.

“Please,” Danny begged, though Stiles couldn't see him. All he could see was the woman stand in front of the cage. He flicked his eyes to the side and saw Scott still throwing down with the other cult members. He didn't seem to be losing, but he wasn't winning either.

She had to be the leader.

“I've spent my life trying to destroy your kind. And I thought I had, but then some little boy started asking questions in a forum my people monitored and tipped us off that one had escaped with a civilian. And it had a child. Your kind is an abomination, and no magical trickery to hide yourselves will work.”

Stiles leapt at her with a broken paint brush, but didn't even prove a distraction as she again batted him aside with an effortless blast of magic.

“But the Paupueo is just supposed to chase the Menehune away with his owls when they become unruly, not kill them!” Danny argued as Stiles groaned and tried to stay conscious. He had no idea what Danny was talking about, but he'd look into Hawaiian mythology when he had the free time.

“Too bad for you, I'm not the Paupueo. Just a follower,” the woman chided. Then she sputtered and stepped back. Stiles looked up and saw that she was wiping black powder from her face.

“Mountain ash,” Stiles whispered proudly. Danny had grabbed it when Stiles wasn't looking.

“Is that was this is?” The woman looked down at Stiles with a raised eyebrow. She twirled her finger and the ash flew off of her and formed into a small ball. “A druid trick? Do I look like an amateur?”

She then flung the ball in Scott's direction. Stiles wanted to yell at him, warn him, but there wasn't time. The ash slammed into Scott and he doubled over in pain. Then he disappeared underneath a pile of cult members.

“I know about werewolves. This is America, after all,” the woman sneered at Stiles. Then she turned back to Danny and produced a knife from her sleeve. “As much as I would just to just blast you, my faith does value tradition. And ceremony.”

Again, Stiles tried to ambush her, albeit much more slowly. Again, he failed as she ripped the metal wire door from the cage and threw it at him. He was just fast enough to throw an arm up to cover his face when it hit. The initial collision hurt, but when his head slammed into the concrete and the door settled on top of him Stiles could barely see from the blood leaking into his eyes.

He pushed the door off and cleared his vision, but the pain was so great he couldn't do more than that. He just laid there and watch the woman brandish the knife and approach Danny. Then he saw the arrow embed itself into her back.

Craning his neck as best he could, Stiles saw Allison smash her crossbow into the back of a woman's head and then throw the empty weapon at another. Someone jumped on her back, driving her to the ground, but Scott seemed to have had enough time to recover because he ripped the man off of Allison and roughly threw him into someone else.

Then Stiles looked back to the woman and Danny and saw her fall back. The arrow snapped when she landed on it, but the knife protruding from her stomach was what really caught his attention.

The woman's eyes locked onto Stiles, and he watched the life in them fade. A couple of minutes later, the rest of the fighting also subsided. Stiles remained on the floor, able but unwilling to move. He couldn't see Danny. He could only just make out Scott and Allison supporting each other as they walked away from the carnage that was the Paupueo cult.

Allison broke away from Scott and knelt next to Stiles. Scott kicked the woman's corpse out of the way and walked into the cage. He started saying something, but Stiles couldn't make out what because Allison was talking to him.

“You're lucky I got here when I did. All of you,” she told Stiles as she helped him sit up.

“Your dad...” Stiles started before coughing. His ribs hurt, but it was just a dull ache. They were probably bruised. He'd had bruised ribs before.

“Is fine. He and Isaac told me they had it under control and to help you guys. I managed to hear the cult guys talking about the school, and I kinda hotwired my dad's car to get here.” Allison grinned as she helped Stiles stand up. “I think, this time, it really is over. Mostly. There are a lot of dead bodies, and school starts in a couple of hours.”

“My dad will take care of it,” Stiles assured Allison, eyes watering as he fought back multiple coughs.. “I mean, your dad will have to help, but it's gonna be fine. How is Danny?”

“Shaken up,” Danny told Stiles as he walked out of the cage at Scott's side. He was unharmed, but pale as a ghost. “I've never killed anyone before. Ever.”

Allison looked back at the pile of bodies on the other side of the room. “I wish I could say the same. But let's get out of here. Stiles can call his dad and I can call mine.”

“I broke my phone,” Stiles said dumbly.

Scott smiled and produced his own. “I have it under control.”

 

TW

The school had been closed down for the day as someone reported a bomb threat. The sheriff and Mr. Argent debated how, or even if they should, cover the whole thing up, and Melissa McCall checked the kids over. Danny and Scott were given clean bills of health, but Stiles was told he would need to go to the hospital and it was suggested Allison do the same in case she had a concussion.

Scott's mom drove Allison and Stiles to the hospital, and used her connections to get them the same room in the ER. Scott and Danny had to stay behind to help fill in what all happened at the school.

“Remember when life consisted of trying to keep Jackson from killing everyone?” Stiles asked Allison when they were alone. He tried not to laugh, because it hurt too much, so he just smirked.

“Ah, when things were simpler,” Allison agreed with an amused grin. “How are you? I doubt you'll be able to make it to cross country practice any time soon.”

“Coach won't care.” Stiles just shrugged, because he knew it was true. “Listen, don't be mad, but did you sleep okay before I woke you up?”

“Yeah, I did. Why?” Allison looked suspiciously at Stiles.

“I didn't have any dreams. And Isaac mentioned your night terrors.” Stiles intentionally looked away from Allison. “Don't get pissed at him, he didn't mean to, but you slept soundly, right?”

“I did...” Allison growled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Stiles didn't know, and he told Allison that. “If my dreams, and your nightmares, and Scott's sleepwalking are all tied to the Nemeton, why would they stop last night? What changed?”

Neither one knew what, but Stiles had ruined the celebratory mood so neither one spoke until the ER Attending gave Allison the all clear. She then checked Stiles out, had him undergo an X-Ray, and then told him that his ribs were bruised but nothing was broken. The hospital even bought the excuse of the injuries coming from when Allison's car had wrecked, since neither one had actually seen a doctor about it.

They did question why they would wait so long when Stiles was in such poor shape, but Ms. McCall jumped in to explain that Stiles and Allison had stupidly tried to hide out at her house while she was working so neither child's parent would know, and that she'd called both fathers before bringing the children in to be checked out.

The doctor taped up Stiles' ribs and wrote him a prescription for pain meds, then released him into Melissa's custody. Apparently, she had some sort of guardianship that his father had set up after his mom died. Allison had to stay behind until her father could pick her up, but she insisted that she was fine and actually needed some time alone to think.

It was too soon for Stiles to be dealing with the Scott and Allison merry-go-round again.

He was a little surprised to see Danny and Scott both waiting for him in the waiting room, but Ms. McCall made a show of warning Scott that he'd be sorry when they got home.

“Scott wanted to see you, so I drove him out,” Danny told Stiles as they watched Scott's mom yell at him from the safety of a waiting room window. Either she was being a hell of an actress, or she actually was pissed off at her son because they'd gone outside so she could yell at him.

“Oh.” Stiles looked back to Danny. “I don't have to ask what happened, do I?”

“I think it's fairly evident,” Danny agreed as he watched Scott cower in fear. Then he looked back at Stiles. “I wanted to see you, too. Make sure you were okay. Thank you.”

“Thank me? What for? Scott and Allison did all the hard work,” Stiles reminded Danny. “I was just kinda there.”

“You took a beating for me. Amongst other things,” Danny smiled and leaned toward Stiles, gently touching his knee. “I know you think the timing is bad. It probably is, because I don't have to tell you that my dad just died. But...”

“... But?” Stiles repeated as Danny stared into his eyes.

Then they kissed again. And it was soft and gentle because Danny probably didn't want to hurt Stiles. It was also the first time Stiles had expected to be kissed. And when it was expected, it was a lot better.

“But I still want you in my life. Werewolf craziness and all.” Danny grinned. Then he looked out the window, and Stiles followed suit.

Scott was grinning widely and gave them a thumbs up. Ms. McCall had her hands over her mouth, but was clearly smiling under them.

“I don't think Scott minds too much about you busting up our marriage,” Danny snorted, as he squeezed Stiles knee.

“Am I ever going to live that down?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Danny promised. He stood up and offered Stiles his hand. “Now we just have to figure out what the hell we're gonna tell my mom. Because there is a dirt bike where my car should be. And we should probably get your jeep while we're at it.”


End file.
